Backwoods with Tim

December 10, 2003|By TIM RESH

For the Daily American

Bob had just turned the magic age of 16 and was having a discussion with his mountainman dad: They were at the shooting range zeroing in their deer rifles when Bob told his dad that he wanted to hunt by the old oak tree. For the past four years, they had hunted side by side at dad's favorite spot about 200 yards from the old oak. (Every mountainman knows that this situation will occur sometime.) This young mountainman-in-training was flexing his wings and his dad responded in the positive.

On their way home from the range, Dad turned up the familiar road to their hunting area. After they parked, Bob got out and led the expedition through the woods to the edge of the field where the old oak stood. He walked around the oak a couple of times. Then he stopped and cleaned the leaves from the ground on the woods side of the tree. Bob's dad watched as his son cleared a couple of branches that leaned into his cleared area. When Bob was finished, the duo walked to his dad's favorite spot and carried out the same operation there too. Then it was time to go home and wait for the first day of the season to arrive.

Advertisement

The opening day of deer season finally arrived. Bob looked outside following his sleepless night. It had snowed, and this only got him more excited. After loading their stuff in the truck, they embarked for parts known. With rifles in hand and coats filled with ammo and sandwiches, they walked together until they arrived at the old oak. At that point, dad told son to be careful and keep his eyes open. Then dad continued on for another 200 yards to his stand.

When daylight broke, Bob was excited. Dad was excited, but feeling a little lonely at the same time. After about 30 minutes, Bob saw a deer coming toward the oak from the field. He looked at its head and realized that it was a doe. He left it go by hoping that a buck would be close by. The doe continued on and stopped by his dad. Dad knew that the doe had come from Bob's direction and wondered to himself why Bob didn't shoot since he has a doe tag. The doe continued on. About an hour later, Bob's dad heard the brush crack from the direction of his son. When he looked, he saw a buck coming down the same path that the doe had traveled. As the buck got closer, he noticed that it was a nice 6-point. Flashing through his mind was the question. Why didn't Bob shoot at this buck? Maybe he forgot to load his rifle. Bob's dad pulled up and found the buck in his scope and slowly squeezed the trigger. When the recoil hit his shoulder, the buck went down in its tracks. He worked the bolt, slid another round into the chamber, and waited. After a few minutes, he walked the 50 feet to the buck and started the field-dressing. Just as he bent down to make the first cut, Bob shot. Then he shot again. Bob's dad stood up, looked in the direction of his son, and about that time two doe about ran him over. Must have missed were his thoughts. He went back to his buck to finish the field-dressing.

After filling out the tag, he started to drag the buck toward his son's stand. When he arrived, he saw Bob about 100 yards out into the field looking toward the ground. He dropped the rope and went out to his son. There laying in the field was a very nice I 0-point. Bob looked up at his dad and asked him if he had gotten the 6-point. His dad responded in the affirmative. Then dad asked the son why he didn't shoot at the 6-point. He informed his dad that both bucks and a couple of doe were walking along the field together. Then the smaller buck came past the old oak and was heading in his dad's direction so he decided to wait for the big one. At that point, Bob reminded his dad of what he always told him. If you shoot the first small buck that comes along, you will never harvest a large one. Dad smiled and shook his son's hand. At that point, he knew that his son was no longer in training. They field-dressed the large buck. Then they dragged their deer out together.